


2. “You should sleep.” - “I’m not human, therefore, I do not require sleep.”

by pacoca



Series: soft prompts; [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Character Study, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22436407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pacoca/pseuds/pacoca
Summary: Five and Dolores at the end of the world.
Relationships: Dolores/Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy)
Series: soft prompts; [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612939
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	2. “You should sleep.” - “I’m not human, therefore, I do not require sleep.”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crescenthour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescenthour/gifts).



Five is 23 years old when the Apocalypse presented him with a problem. 

That’s not right, he’s nothing if not dedicated to getting the details right. The Apocalypse _is_ the problem and the answer is out there, scrawled between the lines of equations that has tapered out of the crumbling walls, he only needs to find it. No, it’s more accurate to say that Number Five is presented with a _complication_ , he’s just not sure if it’s something that deserves attention.

Because you see, Number Five is in love.

Or at least something close to it. 

Anyone with half a brain would know that the Hargreeves manor has never been home to children who were raised on love. That place was a school, and above all, his father placed survival at the highest order. To survive, one must be a master of oneself, or at least, that’s what he told them. It’s all bullshit anyway. Not even Herr Carlson could prevent the end of the world.

Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, Five’s problem for the past 341 hours has been molded to the shape of the woman beside him and he’s not entirely sure what to do about it.

 _You’re spacing out again,_ Dolores tells him. Her chiffon scarf is dotted with green leopard spots, and maybe it’s the light or the weather but something about it frames her face just right; makes her eyes look as deep as forest green. 

He’s never been one for sappy poetry so sue him.

‘I’m not spacing out.’ He takes a bite of his canned beans and looks away, ‘I’m thinking. Trying to save the world.’ 

_Right._

Five scoffs. She always thinks she knows better than him. 

That’s one of the things he likes about her, come to think of it. 

  
  


——-

  
  


They make their way a good three miles across the Western Valley. His legs are aching by the time he reaches their final pit stop and his throat feels like it’s on fire. He’s always tried to make it a habit to keep himself well hydrated but these days, food is hard to come by and water is even worse. There’s wet soil where they’ve stopped though, and vegetation peeking between the rocks so there must be a water source, or an underground spring in the area. Still, he keeps a fair amount of fresh water saved in his bottle, just to be safe.

He pulls the cap off and takes a sip. He’s conscious of her eyes on him when he drinks.

‘Sorry, Dolores.’ He’s blushing, ‘There’s not enough for the both of us right now.’ 

_Don't be stupid, I don't need to drink. Don't you know that?_

He does, but he'd like to think she'd appreciate the effort of him asking at least.

She's always been a difficult woman. 

——-

Late at night, the stars have dotted the night sky, limitless and brighter than he’s ever seen them. 

He doesn’t pitch a tent for their camp. Dolores likes to watch the sky sometimes, and it’s a nice enough weather to let themselves indulge in something good, just this once. The cool air is a little chilly on his toes, though. He shivers, and pulls Dolores’s blankets up before doing his. Their beds are separated by a modest foot or so apart. It’s a respectable distance away because Five is not an animal, thank you very much. 

Still, he wouldn’t be opposed to closing that gap if she wanted to. 

_It’s beautiful out here, don’t you think?_

‘Yeah? How so?’ 

_I don’t know. Everything feels…. different._ There’s a thoughtful lilt in her tone, and he doesn’t want to think too hard on why that’s making his heart race out of the cage of his ribs.

‘I suppose it’s nature’s way of getting in the final word.’ He says, ‘Make the night sky shine brighter than any city, fill up anything man-made with dirt and grass. One final ‘fuck you’ before the lights close up on _Terra Mater.’_ He takes a deep drink of his whiskey. 

His chest is warm, partly from the alcohol. Mostly from her. 

_You know you get surly when you drink. It’s not a flattering look on a man._

‘Yeah, I know.’ He looks at her, ‘I can’t sleep. I promise I’ll stop later.’

He has no intention of stopping later but she doesn’t need to know about that. 

‘ _You_ should sleep, though.’ Five tells her, ‘It’s been a long day for the both of us. I’ll keep watch, don’t worry. I’ll make sure the bugs are off you at least. I don’t think there’s anything living out there besides the two of us, so it’s probably useless to worry at this point.’ 

_I’m not human,_ she says, _I don’t need to sleep. You do know that, don’t you?_

He keeps quiet. 

_Five?_

He looks at her, at the shape of her lips, at the soft blush on her cheeks that’s darkened under the moonlight. She’s beautiful, he thinks, and maybe it’s the alcohol or the evening sky, but she’s as real to him as the dirt on his blankets, as the sun that’s sure to rise six hours and thirty seven minutes from now. 

And here at the end of the world where the silence seems to stretch on for miles, maybe simply loving her is a good enough answer for the both of them.


End file.
